


A Fool For No One

by StatisticallyCorrupt



Series: Supermassive Black Hole [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Birthday Sex, Glory Hole, Idk what else to tag this is honestly just me indulging myself, M/M, Matt Holt & Shiro Friendship, Matt gives Shiro a trip to a sex club as a birthday present, Oral Sex, Sex Club, Sex Worker Keith, Stuck in a wall, Trans Male Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wingman Matt Holt, afab language, transsheithweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StatisticallyCorrupt/pseuds/StatisticallyCorrupt
Summary: Shiro doesn't care much for celebrating his birthday, but Matt insists on taking him to a hole-in-the-wall sex club. Literally.(Or, the one where Matt Holt pays for Shiro to have an hour of glory-hole-esque sex with Keith, who works at a club downtown. Matt absolutely knows what's doing when he requests "Red".)
Relationships: Shiro/Keith
Series: Supermassive Black Hole [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671631
Comments: 17
Kudos: 201





	A Fool For No One

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the tags, Keith is a trans man and sex worker in this fic. AFAB language will be used to describe him. I am not a sex worker and do not claim that any details in this fic are necessarily accurate to sex clubs/sex work. However, I wanted to include Shiro signing a waiver to state that he's comfortable having sex with Keith. I cannot speak for all trans individuals, but as a trans man myself, I think it would be important to have measures in place to ensure trans sex workers' safety in addition to all sex workers' safety. 
> 
> I wanted to post in time for Trans Sheith Week 2020, so I cut this into two parts. I'm not sure when I'll get around to the second part, but I'm hoping there will be one!

Takashi Shirogane is not one who cares much for celebrating his birthday, but his best friend Matt refuses to let him end the day without taking him out to the section of the city that comes alive only at night. He’s been to a handful of these places before - Atlas Strip, a queer strip club; The Blade, designed for safe exploration into BDSM; and even Altea, showcasing a burlesque group run by a striking woman named Allura, whom Shiro has come to call a friend. He’s never set foot inside the Black Hole before now, and although Matt warned him about the nature of the club, Shiro is still unprepared. 

The entrance is tame enough, he supposes. It’s dimly lit compared to outside, with plush carpeting and a few chairs, already occupied by men leafing through a couple skin mags. Two hallways branch off to the right and left. A young woman perches behind a computer desk situated in the middle, dressed in a mock receptionist outfit - a tight blouse unbuttoned rather low, a very short pencil skirt and stiletto high heels. Her hair, pulled up into a high ponytail, is still long enough to reach past her slim waist. She glances up as they approach, and her blue eyes latch onto Shiro with a glimmer of something he can’t name, though it almost feels mischievous, and when she speaks, her voice drips with overconfidence that immediately grates on Shiro’s nerves. 

“Welcome to the Black Hole! Do you have an appointment? Would you like to schedule one?” She says it all in one breath, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she does, revealing a name tag. Ezor. 

Matt steps forward. “I made a reservation last month for my friend here,” he proclaims, pulling out his wallet. “Last name Holt?” 

Ezor’s long nails click-clack across her keyboard. “One for an hour with Red?” she asks, to which Matt nods. He hands over his card, and Shiro doesn’t catch just how much Matt has spent on this, but he can guess, and it’s probably a lot. Ezor hands the card back along with a clipboard. “Okay, he’s ready. Since you have already disclosed the necessary medical records, I just need your signature at the bottom to show you have agreed to our rules, which are listed there.” 

Shiro takes the clipboard from Matt and skims through the rules.

  1. The client will not sue the Black Hole Club, corp. for any injuries sustained during their appointment.
  2. The client will not use audio or visual recording devices of any kind during their appointment. However, the client is subject to audio and visual recording by Black Hole Club, corp. to ensure the safety of the staff member. These recordings will not be released to clients under any circumstances.
  3. The client will discontinue any action at the request of the staff member. If the staff member’s requests are not upheld at any time, the staff member is protected under Black Hole Club, corp. and capable of pursuing legal action. 
  4. The client will not ask for personal information about staff members, including but not limited to their name, phone number, address, or other place of work.
  5. The client will not ask to view the staff member’s face. 



To Shiro, the rules seem pretty straightforward, so he signs his name on the dotted line. Ezor directs him to flip the page over, where there is an additional requirement from the staff member himself: 

I, the undersigned, recognize that the staff member in question identifies as a transgender male, uses he/him pronouns, and has had a hysterectomy (and therefore faces no risk of pregnancy, so condoms are optional given that the undersigned has passed their sexual health tests) but has not had genital reconstruction surgery. I hereby consent to any and all sexual acts and promise to respect the staff member’s identity, or risk legal action. 


Shiro signs there too, having already been briefed by Matt, since one of his friends had recommended this particular staff member and Matt wanted to be sure Shiro would be ok with it. He sees no issue with someone identifying however they feel most comfortable, so he has no problem signing here. 

Ezor grins and whisks the clipboard out of his hands. “Okay! Now that that’s settled, here’s your key.” She holds up a strip of red leather attached to a key ring, with a slim silver key dangling from it. “Go down the left hallway. It’ll be the red door, obviously. Your hour starts as soon as the door opens. You’ll know your time is up when you hear a buzzing sound. All you need to do is leave the room and return the key to me. There’s an additional flat rate of $10 per fifteen minutes overtime up to another hour, which will be charged to the card on file automatically.” 

Shiro exchanges one last look with Matt, who wiggles his eyebrows, before Shiro steps into the hall. It’s dimmer back here, but Shiro has no trouble locating the red door. He steels himself for a moment, then slips the key into the lock and turns the handle. 

What lies beyond takes his breath away. 

The door opens to a small room with little adornment. The only thing occupying the room is a hole in the opposite wall, through which the upper half of a man disappears, revealing everything below the rib cage. Wearing nothing but a pair of red fishnet tights and a glittering navel piercing, his lithe legs are spread and his ankles are secured with leather straps to the wall. The fishnets pull tight against his cunt, his lips flushed pink and puffy, his clit stiff where it peeks out from under the hood. 

It’s a glorified glory hole, and the sight alone makes lightning strike the base of Shiro’s spine. 

Keith has only been working at the Black Hole for a little more than a month, but he has already risen to claim the title of Most Requested Member, pun intended. By now the feel of the leather cuffs and blindfold are familiar, a comfort more than anything to cause unease. He’s already had two clients today, and is prepped for his third and final appointment, loose and ready to receive whatever’s given. 

At least, he thinks he’s prepared. 

The appreciative groan of the man entering the room rumbles deep in his chest, and it makes Keith’s cunt throb in interest. His footsteps are quiet as he approaches Keith, all but swallowed by the soundproofed walls. Still, Keith can tell his gait is confident; he only hesitates when he reaches the opposite end of the room where Keith is restrained. It’s a moment before Keith feels the brush of fingertips along the inside of his right thigh, tracing the fishnets’ pattern. 

“Stunning,” the client murmurs, his voice just as low and gravelly as Keith expected. It almost sounds familiar, but Keith can’t focus on that as it sends another jolt of arousal through him, his breath quickening. He tries to lean into the touch, but the ankle restraints don’t allow him to. The man must notice his attempt, though, and a large hand takes up residence below the crease of his right knee, testing how far Keith can stretch before he gasps, his cunt on full display. His other hand joins the first, and the sensation of a leather glove makes Keith’s toes curl, even before the man slides his hands down Keith’s thighs. The hand not wearing the glove starts petting over his folds before spreading them apart beneath the fishnets. Two fingers hook into the strings and tug, ripping the netting with ease. Keith’s pulse ratchets in anticipation, but he doesn’t expect the first breath of air exhaled over his sensitive skin, and he flinches. 

It’s the only warning he gets before a warm, wet tongue licks a single stripe over him. His legs quiver, trying to close around the man’s head, but he’s held fast in the cuffs, helpless. The man sets a slow, torturous pace with his mouth, teasing between his folds but never quite over his clit or dipping into his cunt, never quite where he needs it. He can’t get enough traction to rock his hips into the touch, leaving him at this man’s mercy. The implication only makes him wetter. This is why he does this job.

It isn’t until Keith is veritably dripping that the man slips a forefinger into him, sliding in easily despite its length and thickness. The man doesn’t even crook it before adding his middle finger; only on the third finger does he meet any resistance, but Keith moans at the pleasure of the slight burn. It dissipates quickly as the man _finally_ starts to move his fingers, his tongue still probing at the place where the digits disappear into Keith. 

Keith has never been fond of resorting to begging, but he can’t handle this much longer. “P-please,” he says, the word hardly managed between his ragged gasps. 

The man hums and the vibrations against where he still has his mouth on Keith is tantalizing, but still not enough. “What was that, Red?” 

“Please!” Keith cries, getting desperate now. “I -- I need _more,_ please --” 

His client leans away and withdraws his fingers, leaving Keith’s cunt fluttering at the sudden emptiness, exposed to the cool air. The sound of his zipper is loud in the small room despite the soundproofing, but the thud of his pants dropping to the floor is quieter. He shuffles closer, then runs his hands up Keith’s spread legs, pausing when he reaches the leather cuffs to fiddle with the belt loops. “May I?” 

Keith is surprised he even asks, but he slurs a mantra of _yesyesyes,_ and then those sure fingers are unfastening the leather straps one by one. The man takes a moment to massage some feeling back into them, then guides Keith’s legs to rest against his shoulders. Keith’s ankles barely clear his clavicles, and the sheer size of him overwhelms Keith. The prospect of the man’s cock being proportionate makes Keith all the more eager for it as his left hand returns to Keith’s pussy, thumbing apart the folds. 

The word falls from Keith’s mouth once more, barely a whisper this time. “Please?” 

Shiro is far too happy to oblige with Red’s request, tapping the head of his cock against him just once in a meager warning before pressing inside. That slick heat envelops him almost greedily, welcoming the tip with ease. He takes his time sinking in inch by inch, not so much for Red’s benefit but for his own, to hear the way each new shallow thrust punches another breath from the man. By the time Shiro’s fully seated, the sound has changed to one long, drawn-out moan. The sight of Red split on his cock nearly sends Shiro over the edge right there, and he takes a moment to tease his fingertips over the place they meet. 

“Fuck!” Red hisses, his body jumping against the touch, and it only serves to drive Shiro further into him, resulting in another moan. “Fuck, you better start moving those hips, or I’m gonna cum.” 

Shiro smirks to himself. “Do it, then. I can make you cum again,” he assures, and snaps his hips sharply. The motion makes a satisfying _slap_ against Red’s plush cheeks, and he repeats it immediately, setting about to brutalize that cunt as quickly and efficiently as possible. It only takes one graze of Shiro’s thumb against his clit for Red to fall apart, his pussy spasming around Shiro as he fucks him through his orgasm until he’s a quivering, leaking mess on Shiro’s cock. 

He doesn’t stop, and Red doesn’t ask him to, even when Shiro can tell he’s oversensitive. He slows, taking his time now, and it’s nearly a full minute before Red stirs back to life, twitching when Shiro shifts to hit that spot inside him. It’s not perfect, though; Shiro intends to fix that. “Can I flip you over?” 

“Shit, yeah, do it,” Red sputters, and Shiro slips out, gripping him by the hips to turn him over on the little padded board situated in the wall. Red goes with ease, but there’s a surprising amount of corded muscle beneath Shiro’s hands, and it makes fresh arousal spike in his gut. The new sight doesn’t help. Red’s ass is presented to Shiro now, pert and plump and absolutely delectable like a goddamned peach, and his rim is tempting, but Shiro’s not done with his cunt yet. He guides Red’s lithe legs around his waist this time, feeling his ankles lock at the small of Shiro’s back, and then slams back home without preamble. He sinks in all at once, eliciting a wordless scream from Red that is quickly muffled, Shiro thinks, by the man biting down on either his own skin or that board. 

From this angle, Shiro has unrestricted access to Red’s g-spot, and he aims for it with deadly accuracy with each thrust. Closing his eyes, Shiro focuses on the enveloping warmth, trying to lose himself in the sensation of it and nothing else except perhaps for the various sounds that Red makes. His hands nearly encircle the man’s waist, thumbs pressing into the dips of his spine; he hopes he leaves bruises. 

It doesn’t take long for Red to climax again under Shiro’s ministrations, dragging Shiro with him. Red’s body seizes on his cock, cunt clenching, barely allowing Shiro a few more thrusts before he buries himself to the base and spills inside. The moan Red elicits is downright sinful.

Shiro stays there, twitching through the aftershocks until he starts to soften. Then he pulls out just to watch his come drip from Red’s folds, using his cockhead to tease it back inside every so often. Red whines, low and needy, so Shiro withdraws his touch entirely just to hear him whine louder. Kneeling, Red’s ankles rest just under his armpits; Shiro takes the time now to appreciate the man’s ass. Cheeks spread between his hands, he proceeds to gather his own spend on his tongue. He leans forward and lets it drip off, back onto Red’s holes, before lapping it back up again. He repeats the gesture until everything’s wet and sloppy, then carefully licks it all clean. 

Just as Shiro moves to stand up, the buzzer goes off. Red sighs from the other side of the wall. “Time’s up.” 

Slowly, Shiro lowers Red’s legs and reaches for his own pants. He tucks himself back into his boxers, tugs his jeans up, zips and buckles them, then presses a kiss to Red’s ass. “Thanks.” 

The man chuckles. “Anytime.” 

With one last glance over his shoulder, Shiro opens the door and slips back out into the hall, key in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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>     * This author sees and appreciates all comments, but may not respond.
>     * This author would prefer not to receive constructive criticism at this time, except for such errors as typos or formatting issues. Thank you! 
> 



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